


I Close My Eyes and Seize It

by skatedaddy



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Begging, Characters are of age, Choking, Dirty Talk, Friends With Benefits, Kinks, M/M, Porn With Plot, richie is a major bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 10:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12579244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatedaddy/pseuds/skatedaddy
Summary: The summer following graduation, Richie and Stan start hooking up. It's just sex, it means nothing- after all, Stan would be moving to New York for school at the end of August. It was stupid, bad idea to catch feelings.Too bad Richie is the king of stupid, bad ideas.





	I Close My Eyes and Seize It

**Author's Note:**

> i'm literally no good at writing smut so i don't know why i thought "gee lets write a smut story" but i'm an idiot look a me.  
> feel free to leave comments with kinks you'd like to see in this story tbh
> 
> like i said in the tags, all characters are 18+

“Mmm,” Richie hums into Stan Uris’s mouth, which was currently ravishing him, assaulting his own with intense ferocity. Stan has Richie flat on his back on the bed, one hand on Richie’s chest to press him down into the mattress and the other gently fisted in his hair. Stan’s weight feels so good on him, his tongue in Richie’s mouth tastes so good, Richie actually feels like he’s died and gone to Heaven. He never wants Stan to stop kissing him; eventually Stan finally does breaks them apart, but it’s only to move down to the pale column of Richie’s neck, where he nibbles and sucks, breaking the blood on the surface. Richie gasps, squirming underneath him when he finds the sweet spot to the side of Richie’s Adam’s apple, the one that drives Richie absolutely crazy, and starts sucking hard. “Mmm, Stan…” His neck had been covered in bruises all summer, ever since graduation night, when a joint and a bottle of Bacardi helped changed the dynamic of his relationship with Stan forever. Richie didn’t mind it at all, even when the other Loser’s teased him about the hickies, completely unaware that the culprit was standing amongst them, watching Richie fluster with a smirk.

The hand Stan had been using to hold down Richie’s chest travels up to throat then, making Richie squeak out a little moan, face flushing red. Stan leans in to kiss him, still holding him down by the throat, squeezing gently, making Richie’s breath hitch and a small “Fuck” slip from his tongue. Stan smirks down at his friend, amused.

“Do you like that, Richie?” He asks with faux innocence, applying more pressure still to Richie’s neck, enough to make it a challenge now for Richie to breath. Richie glares up at him, because _fuck Stan,_ he _knew_ that Richie liked it. The first time Stan had choked him he had nearly come in his pants from just that alone. Now, Stan was toying with him. He peppers the side of Richie’s mouth with little kisses, then bites his lower lip. “Well?” He murmurs into Richie’s jaw, still waiting for his answer. 

“Fuck you, Stan, you know I do,” Richie’s voice grates out choked and husky, and Stan can feel his voicebox vibrate underneath his hand. Stan grins at this, finally letting go of smaller boy’s neck and sliding his hands under Richie’s shirt, bunching it up until his chest was exposed. He toys with one of Richie’s nipples, chuckling at the way Richie’s body arches off bed, at the desperate noise that escapes his mouth. 

“You’re so sensitive. I swear, you’re like a girl,” Stan laughs, and Richie is trying to think of a good comeback when Stan reaches down and takes the nipple he’s not rolling with his thumb into his mouth and bites. He squirms wantonly, moaning, as Stan let’s go of the bud with a wet _Pop,_ blowing cold air on it just to watch the goosebumps form on Richie’s skin. 

“Fuck, Stan, you’re so mean,” Richie feels like crying, he’s so hot and desperate. “Stop teasing me.” It was useless pleading, and they both know it; Stan loves to be a tease just as much as Richie loves to be teased. Stan nips his ear and then along his jawline, his hands finding Richie’s wrists and pinning them to the bed, which makes Richie whimper, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head for a moment because _fuck it was so hot when Stan pinned him down._

“I dunno, Richie,” Stan says, his voice taunting and deliberate. He grinds down into Richie’s erection, and Richie fights a bit to free his arms, because it makes him harder than anything to know he can’t escape Stan’s grip if he tried. “I think you _like_ being teased. I think you like when I make you beg for it.” 

Richie can feel his face heating up, and even when he closes his eyes he can feel Stan’s predatory gaze looking down on him, feel the smirk spread across Stan’s lips. Stan takes in Richie’s current state with a sense of pride; his face is flushed, hair tossed, lips swollen and parted, his pupils blown. Big purple bruises marr his neck, and his fingers twitch as Stan holds him down. He was so pretty, a gorgeous, erotic little mess, putty under Stan’s hands. Stan had never expected Richie to be so pliant and submissive, but it was just as well since Richie had never expected Stan to be so _dominate._

“What do you think, Richie? Are you gonna beg for it?” He presses Richie’s wrists even tighter to the mattress, sucking another sloppy bruise onto Richie’s jugular as he grinds his hips down against Richie’s. A soft sob rips it's away from Richie’s throat now, low and needy and pathetic. 

“Fuck, Stan, _please,_ ” Stan loves watching Richie come undone like this. He loves reducing the shittalking little Trashmouth to nothing but a boneless puddle of moans and pleas, loves making him beg, loves degrading him, loves making that mouth of his that was constantly running and getting himself into trouble finally _shut up._ It was such a satisfying thing, really. 

“Please what?” Stan is faking innocence again, looking down at Richie expectantly. He knows Richie can do a better job than that. “What do you want?”

Richie averts his gaze, tears shining in his eyes, face red with embarrassment. “Please, Stan, fuck, I want you to touch me, I want your cock in me, _please._ ”

Stan makes a noise of boredom as he finally lets go of Richie’s wrists and moves down to slip his hand inside Richie’s boxers, squeezing his hard cock. “You’re so easy,” he tells Richie nonchalantly, removing his hand and tugging down Richie’s boxers. “If I had known you were such a slut, I would have started fucking you a long time ago.”

Richie moans wantonly and grinds upward. “Please,” he repeats, breath coming out in hot pants. Stan is driving his fucking nuts, it was ridiculous. Richie felt like he was going to lose his mind if Stan didn’t shut up and start fucking him. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of watching him cum untouched, just from being teased and treated like a bitch. It was humiliating how turned on all of this made him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stan is reaching towards the nightstand beside Richie’s bed, pulling open the drawer and quickly finding the bottle of lube the two had started to keep there. Richie hears the familiar click of the cap being popped open, and Stan wastes no time after that pressing two fingers to his hole, circling and pushing them in a little, just up to the first knuckle, just enough to drive him insane. Richie jumps at the sensation at first, then whines as he attempts to grind down and swallow Stan’s fingers. Stan is teasing him still, barely giving him anything. 

“What do you say?” Stan asks coyly, toying with him.

“ _Please,_ ” Richie’s so frustrated he could kill Stan, really. Finally Stan’s fingers breach him all the way, and he moans with satisfaction at the feeling. Stan slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out of him, curling inside and hitting the spot that made Richie see stars. Stan adds a third finger, quickening his pace, and now Richie feels like he’s being fingerblasted into the bed more than being prepared for sex. “Fuck, Stan, ah,” He huffs out, and then the fingers are being pulled out of him; he whines at the absence and squirms. 

“God, you’re so desperate,” Stan pulls him into a hot kiss, nibbling on his lip hard enough that the taste of pennies fills Richie’s mouth. “Tell me what you want, Richie.” 

“I want you to fuck me, dummy,” Richie hisses out. 

“Be nice, or I’ll leave you here like this.” It’s an empty threat, but it’s enough to scare Richie, who clutches at Stan and begins pleading desperately, 

 

“I want you to fuck me Stan, please, fuck me senseless, use me, make me scream, I’ll do anything, fuck, _please._ ”

Stan sniggers and lines up his cock with Richie’s hole, pushing in slowly. He gasps at Richie’s tightness and heat; no matter how many times he sank into it, he’d never get over how amazing Richie felt. He hooks Richie’s legs over his shoulders, burying himself deep inside, relishing in the smaller boy’s little gasps and moans, in the way his back arched up involuntarily to allow Stan to go even deeper. He gives Richie a second to adjust, because he’s not _that_ mean, and because he loves watching Richie’s face as his body succumbs to having Stan’s cock inside of it; it was such a pretty sight. 

Richie’s eyes, which had screwed shut when Stan first entered him, finally flutter open and he gives Stan a look that let’s Stan know he’s good to start moving. His thrusts are small at first, circling his hips and grinding his dick into richie deep and slow. Richie is a noisy as ever, punctuating each of Stan’s thrusts with sultry little noises, and he’s lucky it’s so late or there was no way Richie’s parents wouldn’t hear them. “Better be quiet,” Stan huffs, amused, slipping two of his fingers into Richie’s mouth for him to suck on. “You don’t want your parents to know you’re in here on your back for a _boy,_ do you Richie? Imagine how they’d feel, knowing their only son is a little whore.” 

Richie makes a noise that resembles keening, drooling around Stan’s fingers, and Stan laughs against the skin of his neck, picking up his pace so that he slamming, hard and fast, into Richie. He hits that amazing bundle of nerves inside of Richie with each thrust, and after a moment Richie’s vision goes pure white and his entire body goes stiff. Stan has to press his hand into Richie’s mouth to muffle his scream as he convulses and comes hard, white sticky seed spilling across his stomach and chest. Stan fucks him through his orgasm and the aftershock of it, when every nerve ending in his body feels like it’s on fire. It doesn’t take long until Stan’s cumming too, biting hard into Richie’s shoulder and spilling over inside him with no warning. He rides out his orgasm and pulls out, collapsing next to Richie on the bed.

Both boys are panting, and Richie feels thoroughly fucked and rather exhausted; Stan’s seed is starting to drip out of him now, and he can feel the sheets under him getting damp but can’t find it in himself to care. Stan wipes at the cum on Richie’s belly, coating his fingers with the thick, sticky fluid before shoving them in Richie’s mouth, forcing him to taste himself. Richie moans loudly at this, and if he wasn’t so exhausted he’d be hard all over again.

“That was good,” Stan finally says, after he’s had a moment to catch his breath. He takes his fingers out of Richie’s mouth and wraps an arm around his waist, cuddling into him. Richie presses back, loving how soft yet firm Stan was, loving how safe Stan made him feel when he held him. He wishes they could lay like this forever, just the two of them. He is suddenly struck with the remembrance that in one short month, Stan would be heading to New York for school, and this thing, whatever it was, would be over. He has to swallow back tears, because fuck, he doesn’t want to lose this, isn’t ready to let it go. It was just supposed to be sex. There weren’t supposed to be feelings involved. Yet here he was, catching feelings for a boy that was about to move hundreds of miles away from him. Good job Richie. _Idiot._

Richie swallows thickly, doing his best to now let how deflated he suddenly feels show in his voice. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It was good.” Maybe Stan would be leaving at the end of the summer, but for the time being he was right here, and Richie snuggles closer to his chest and listens to the sound of his heart beat as he drifts off into sleep.


End file.
